Whispers
by LivwellisUltimate
Summary: Drea McLean never had a normal life. Being the daughter of two supernatural hunters pretty much ensured that, though she hoped that by being in college with her boyfriend, she would have some reprieve. Unfortunately, she is dragged back into the world of monsters and weaponry when his father disappears. The supernatural, though, has nothing on the voices she hears inside her head.


_ Twenty-two-year-old Drea McLean found herself standing in the middle of a nursery. Confused, she looked around, wondering why she was there. Crying suddenly pierced the air, sharp and crisp, and Drea turned towards the sound. Gasping, she saw a man standing over the crib where the baby lied. His hand was cut, and blood was dripping onto the baby's face and into its mouth._

_ Drea stepped forward but he paid no attention to her. "Stop it!" She tried shouting. "Leave that baby alone!"_

_But still he didn't turn, and Drea's eyebrows crinkled and mashed together, a frown pulling down her lips in bewilderment._

_ "Sam! Sammy!"_

_ Drea whipped around to see Mary Winchester. Mary and Drea's mother, Renee, had been best friends since middle school, back when Mary used to be Mary Campbell and Renee used to be Renee Webber. The two women were so close they were like sisters, and, as such, Mary's sons and Renee's daughters had become best friends as well. The Winchesters were like family to Drea._

_ Upon seeing her, she realized that she was in the Winchester house in Lawrence, Kansas. A strange feeling of dread suddenly washed over her, a feeling that grew more and more intense when Mary stared right through her to the man standing at the crib. The man slowly turned around, and Drea watched in horror as he, the Yellow-Eyed Demon, summoned an athame in his hand and struck forward, slicing Mary's stomach open and causing her to scream._

_ Drea flinched back, that dread in her stomach growing more with each passing second. She felt a scream beginning to build in her chest, but she held it back. She didn't know why she wanted to scream or why she even felt such dread (she knew that her boyfriend's mother had died in his nursery at the hands of a demon when he was six months old); all she knew was that, instead of hearing stories about it, she was going to witness the death of the Winchester matriarch._

_ Drea watched, tears prickling her eyes and that urge to scream growing stronger, the Yellow-Eyed Demon force Mary up the wall and trapping her on the ceiling. With a satisfied smirk, he disappeared._

_ Soon after, thundering footsteps signaled John Winchester's arrival to the nursery. John burst in, looking more concerned than Drea ever remembered seeing him. He looked around for a moment before his eyes fell on the crib. A small smile spread across his face as he walked over to stand over his son. Drea watched John gaze happily down at baby Sam before a look of confusion replaced it. John reached down and pulled his finger back to see what had dripped onto his son's pillow. It was blood._

_ Drea mashed her lips together to stop the bubbling scream just racing to get out. It was difficult to hold it. This scream wasn't like anything she'd ever experienced before; it was like a monster clawing at her ribs, ripping herself apart from the inside. It was a ghastly, hollow kind of scream that sprouted tears in her eyes, it was so painful. And it only seemed to happen during times like this, when death and destruction were near._

_ She watched, a third party, as John looked up and saw Mary. The man let out a terrified yell and collapsed onto the floor next to his son's crib, staring in horror up at his wife, the love of his life and mother of his children, as she stared down at him, pure agony reflecting in her blue eyes as more blood dripped from her wound and onto the floor, creating a small pool beneath her and only adding to the horrible situation. "No!" John cried out, helpless. "Mary!" The pain in his voice caused a few traitor tears to escape from Drea's eyes and roll down her pale cheeks._

_ Then the fire started, and Drea had to put both hands over her pursed lips. The scream was getting stronger now; she knew she couldn't hold it in for much longer._

_ The room suddenly changed, turning into the apartment she and Sam currently shared at Stanford, the college in which she was attending with him for her psychology major. The scene was the same; blood dripping and staining the floor and bed, the fire engulfing the room. The key thing that was different from what she had just witnessed? It wasn't Mary Winchester, Dean and Sam's deceased mother, that was on the ceiling._

_ It was Jessica Moore, her very much alive best friend._

_And then she screamed._


End file.
